Disclaimer: Arrow is owned by The CW, Berlanti Productions, and Warner Bros. Television. The character of the Green Arrow and the Justice League is owned by DC Comics. I own nothing; I'm just playing in their universe.
Chapter 5: An Innocent Man
Felicity grabbed the remote this time. "Well, on that cheerful note…" she muttered as she pressed play.
The memory set begins with a recap as The Hood led Diggle down into the Foundry. Laying him on a table, he moved to the munitions crate and pulled out the bag of herbs. Mixing some in water, he fed the potion to Diggle, who coughed slightly but drank.
Some time later- it could have been minutes, it could have been hours, Diggle came too. He looked around in confusion, wondering where he was. He struggled to sit up, finally doing so. As his surroundings came back into focus, he spotted a familiar face. Across from him, leaning against another table and dressed in green leather and hood down, was Oliver Queen.
"Hey." He said as Diggle looked at him in stunned silence.
"Oliver?" Diggle asked, stunned. "You're that vigilante." He deduced, and then took a sloppy swing at the man. Oliver easily sidestepped the punch and Diggle ran into the table.
"Easy, Dig." He said calmly. "You were poisoned."
"Son of a bitch." Diggle groaned, throwing another punch. Oliver caught the man and leaned him back up against the other table. Diggle groaned and glared at the other man.
"Come on." Oliver started. "I could have taken you anywhere, could have taken you home." He gestured around. "I brought you here."
"You really did lose your mind on that island." Diggle observed.
"Found a couple things along the way." Oliver replied.
Diggle scoffed. "Like what, archery classes?"
Thea snorted in amusement.
"Clarity." He stated, taking a step closer to Digg. "Starling City is dying. It is being poisoned, by a criminal elite who don't care who they hurt, as long as they maintain their wealth and power." He espoused.
"What are you gonna do, take 'em all down by your lonesome?" Diggle asked scathingly.
"No." Oliver shook his head. "Now, I want you to join me."
"Dear god, tell me he didn't just use the Darth Vader recruitment method." Felicity said, her mouth agape.
"Come to the Dark Side, we have cookies?" Thea replied, causing both girls to giggle.
"That really is lame." Laurel agreed.
Diggle scoffed, but Oliver continued. "Special Forces out of Kandahar. It's perfect." He looked at Diggle. "You're a fellow soldier." He stated.
Diggle shook his head. "I'm not going to see him as a soldier." He noted.
Digg shook his head. "Oliver, you're not a soldier." He said. "You're a criminal. And a murderer." He spat, staggering out of the lair as Oliver sighed.
"That was kind of harsh." Tommy complained. "Okay, so I'm not down on the killing. But he is trying to do good."
"Keep in mind, son, that our opinions of him and his methods are now colored by information that our past selves wouldn't have." Malcolm said.
"Past selves, or future selves?" Tommy asked, then shook his head. "I hate time travel."
The scene changed to Queen Manor, later that night. Oliver, back in his suit and tie, walked in and wearily started making his way up the stairs when a voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Where were you?"
Oliver turned around to see Laurel at the bottom of the stairs he sighed. "What are you doing here?" he asked tiredly.
"Good question." Quentin said.
"I heard about the shooting, and I wanted to make sure you were ok." She explained.
"You did?"
"Yeah." Laurel looked at him sternly. "I knocked on the door, and I found a family terrified for you." Oliver sighed and laid his head against the post. "They had no idea where you were."
"Oh." He said simply. He had been so caught up in the moment that he had honestly forgot about calling them so they knew he was alright.
"Oliver, are you so self-centered that you don't think that people who care about you are gonna wonder where you are after you all got shot at?" Laurel started, but Oliver cut her off.
"You're right." He said simply.
Laurel stepped in closer. "I made peace with your selfishness a long time ago, but Moira, Thea, and Walter, they don't deserve that." She said simply. "They deserve better, someone who doesn't care only about himself." With that, she walked past him towards the front door.
"Laurel," Oliver started, struggling to find something to say. Finally, he settled on, "Thank you for coming."
"I care about the lives of other people, Oliver." She replied. "Maybe you should try it sometime." With that, she walked out of the house.
Laurel winced. "Ouch."
"Laying it on kind of thick, aren't ya?" Thea asked sarcastically.
"Moderation." Tommy advised. "Moderation is the key."
Oliver threw his head back and sighed. "Oh, man." He muttered tiredly.
"That was harsh." Thea walked up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You ok?" she asked simply.
"Sure." Oliver replied. "Second time tonight that a friend of mine has taken me to the woodshed. Kind of tires you out."
"Yeah." Thea agreed. Oliver kissed her on the forehead.
"Good night." He said, wearily walking up the stairs.
"Good night." She called back.
That night, Oliver once again dreamed of the Island.
The scene flashed back to the cave. Oliver had pulled a photo of Laurel out of his wallet and was looking at it when Yao Fei came in, a bird in a hand-made bamboo cage.
"I'd think it was sweet that he was carrying around a picture of me in his shirt, if I hadn't seen him wearing that shirt while in bed with my sister." Laurel said dryly. In the control room, Sara winced.
He set the cage down in front of Oliver.
"Shengcún." He said.
Oliver looked between him and the bird, uncomprehending. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
"Shengcún." Yao Fei repeated.
"Does that mean 'bird'?" Oliver guessed.
"Shengcún!"
"I don't speak Chinese!" he yelled back, frustrated. Yao Fei went back to his work, and Oliver returned to starring at the picture. "I'm sorry, Laurel. I'm so sorry."
Laurel's eyes softened at that.
Tommy looked over at his father. "Okay, dad. You know Chinese, what did," he gestured vaguely at the screen, "that mean?"
"It means 'Survive'." He replied. "I do believe this Asian fellow is giving Oliver his first lesson of survival on the island. And I'm sure we'll all see the lesson play out." He finished, sinking back into his chair.
Back in the present, Oliver shot awake, breathing hard. Giving up sleep, he threw on a robe and headed downstairs, thinking to watch some TV. He was surprised to find that Thea beat him to it; she was sitting on the couch in her own robe, munching on chips. A news report played on the TV.
'There were no signs of forced entry or any evidence of a struggle, but, hours later, the police found that the bloodstained kitchen knife in the trunk…'
Thea noticed him. "Couldn't sleep, either?" she asked. Oliver shook his head and sat next to her.
"No." he looked at the TV. "What are you watching?" he asked.
"Peter Declan." She said simply.
"Monster." Malcolm spat, surprising a few in the room.
"Hmm?" he said, confused.
"The guy who killed his wife." She saw the uncomprehending look on his face. "Right. This guy killed his wife in their baby's room." She explained, leaning back into the couch. "Psycho."
Oliver looked at the TV, where Declan was talking to a reporter in prison. 'Camille was everything to me.' He was saying. 'I couldn't kill her any more than I could kill myself.'
"So why can't you sleep?" Thea asked Oliver, pausing the TV.
"Bad dreams." He said.
"About?"
"Laurel." Oliver sighed.
"So why don't you make a play?" Thea asked with a small smiled. "I mean, she did come over here just to make sure you didn't get shot."
Laurel gave Thea an amused look. "Seriously?"
Thea shrugged. "Why not?"
"There are reasons." Oliver said. Thea gave him a look.
"Mm, what are they?" she asked dryly, before listing several. "Besides you sleeping with her sister and her sister dying and her father hating your guts and you basically being a jerk to everybody since you've been back?"
Oliver nodded. "Those are the top ones." Thea bit back a smile. "I know that it might not seem like it sometimes, but I'm not the same person I used to be." Oliver tried to explain.
"So show her." Thea replied. "Be yourself. I mean your new self." Oliver looked at his sister, considering her words.
Quentin gave the girl a pained look. "Please don't give them any help." He pleaded. Thea snickered.
The scene changed to the next day. Oliver came downstairs and walked in to the sitting room, where Moira was sitting, reading the paper. In the back was a tall, white man in a suit that brought him up short.
"How did you sleep?" Moira asked, not looking up from her paper.
"Just fine, thank you." He said pleasantly. He looked to the new man. "We have a visitor."
"Hmm." Moira hummed. "Mr. Diggle's replacement."
"Replacement?" a chill went down his spine.
"Yes." Moira said. "He tendered his resignation this morning."
"Did he say why?" Oliver asked, trying to stay cool. Moira finally put the paper down. "He said he didn't approve of the way you spend your evenings, particularly given that they always begin with you ditching him."
Oliver silently breathed a sigh of relief. He walked up to the man and smiled, extending his hand.
"Hi."
"Mr. Queen, Rob Scott." Rob introduced himself, shaking Oliver's hand. "I'll be your new body man."
"That's a firm grip you got there, Rob." Oliver said jovially.
"That's 5 years SWAT with Monument Point M.C.U." he explained. Oliver nodded sagely.
"I feel safer already."
"How long 'till he ditches him?" Thea wondered aloud.
"Within the first hour." Moira predicted.
"I'd say within the first ten minutes." Diggle observed wryly.
Moira gave him a wry smile. "Well, you do seem to have experience in that field…"
"Ah, thank God we don't have to hear about this awful man anymore." Moira said, drawing Oliver's attention. He looked back at the TV, where Declan was once again the focus of the news.
'Declan's execution is set for midnight 2 days from now.' The news anchor was saying. 'Camille Declan's former employer, Jason Brodeur, released a statement saying, quote, 'I hope this gives Camille the peace she deserves.''
"Jason Brodeur?" Oliver remarked to himself.
"What?" Moira asked, looking up at Oliver.
"The dead wife worked for Jason Brodeur." Oliver said.
"Apparently so." Moira looked at Olive curiously. "What- why?"
"He's on the list." Malcolm said, a realization washing over him. "Oh…."
"What?" Tommy demanded.
"I think I may have jumped to the wrong conclusion." Was all he said, his attention returning to the screen.
"No reason." Oliver said lightly, and then turned to his new body man. "Say, Rob, I want to go into town. Could you please get the car for me?"
"No offense, Mr. Queen, but I have been filled in on your tendency to slip the leash." Rob said. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer keeping you in my sights at all times."
"We're 20 miles from the city." Oliver pointed out reasonably. "If you don't drive me, how else am I gonna get there?" He looked at the man. "Right?" Rob nodded awkwardly and left to get the car. Oliver looked down at his mother. "I like him." He remarked.
Outside a few minutes later, Rob was standing by the Bentley. Suddenly, Oliver roared past him on his motorcycle. He gave a wave to Rob, who unthinkingly returned it. "Hey!" he shouted in vain.
"Told you." Diggle said with a satisfied smile.
The scene shifted to the Foundry, where Oliver was researching the Declan case. 'They say Peter Declan murdered his wife in cold blood.' Oliver's voice said as he looked over various reports on his computer. 'He had no alibi, and all the evidence pointed toward him. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death, an open-and-shut case, except for one thing.' He pulled out the notebook and looked through it briefly, finally stopping when he found what he was looking for- Jason Brodeur's name. 'Declan's wife Camille worked for Jason Brodeur. And Jason Brodeur is on the list.'
At an undisclosed location, a well-dressed man was reading about Declan's upcoming execution. He looked up from his paper. "Mr. Brodeur." He said respectfully.
"Admiring your handiwork?" Brodeur asked the man, a smile on his face.
"You should have just let me kill both of 'em."
It clicked suddenly for Tommy. "Brodeur had Declan's wife killed, then framed him for it."
"My associate will have to have words with Mr. Brodeur when we return." Malcolm said darkly.
"Peter Declan is worth more alive." Brodeur argued. "'Husband kills wife' is a much better headline than 'whistle-blower uncovers toxic dumping,' don't you think?" He sighed happily. "Either way, 48 hours, all this'll be over."
"Don't bother calling your associate," Laurel told Malcolm. "Because I'm going to nail his ass to the wall."
"I'll help." Quentin said. He hated the thought that his department had been played by a rich scum-bag like Brodeur.
Back at the Foundry, Oliver was making new arrows.
'The odds are good that Brodeur is involved in this woman's murder, which means an innocent man is facing execution.' Oliver sat back at his desk, pulling out his worn photograph of Laurel. He looked up, thinking. 'He'll need a good attorney.'
"Oh, crap." Quentin muttered.
The scene changed to CNRI, where Laurel was busy gathering papers. Joanna walked over to her.
"So I take it there's absolutely no point in asking if you'd like to grab a drink?" she asked.
"I can't." Laurel said, closing out her computer. "I have to go over transcripts for the Fernands case."
"You know, if you go somewhere that's not work or your home, your odds of meeting someone increase by, like, a gazillion percent." Joanna noted.
"Oh, that's not true. I could still get mugged on the way home." Laurel argued, throwing her bag on her shoulder.
"In that case, I hope he's cute and single."
"Cute, single, and a little crazy." Thea predicted.
"Good night, Joanna." Laurel said as she walked out of the building.
Laurel made her way back to her apartment without incident. As she entered, she went to turn the light on-
But nothing happened.
She flicked the switch a couple more times, but the light stayed off. She glanced up at the light in confusion, and then cautiously made her way further into her apartment.
"Don't you watch horror movies?" Tommy asked. "You never go in to the dark, spooky place! For all you know, some nutjob wearing a Freddy glove could pop out and gut you!"
"Or a whack-job with a bow and arrow." Quentin added, ignoring the dirty looks Thea and Moira sent his way."
She looked into her living room, and saw the curtain blowing from the wind coming through an open window. Panicked, but controlled, Laurel opened the lower drawer of her desk and pulled out a handgun. She pulled back the slide to chamber a round.
"Said nutjob would get a bullet before that happened." Laurel said pointedly, hiding a shudder. Laurel hated Freddy Krueger.
Suddenly she felt someone behind her. She spun, pointing her gun at the intruder.
Across from her, The Hood stood. Unseen to her, he clicked on a voice modulator he held in his hand.
"Hello, Laurel." He said.
"Don't move!" Laurel shouted, holding the gun steady on The Hood.
"I'm not gonna hurt you." Oliver said holding out his bow and switching it over to his non-dominate hand. He started to slowly walk towards her.
"Stay back." Laurel said, gun held steady. "My father's a cop. You are making a huge mistake."
"Is it wrong that I want you to shoot him?" Quentin asked.
"YES!" Thea, Moira, Laurel, Tommy, Diggle, and Felicity all said. Malcolm glanced over at Slade, who shrugged his shoulders in reply.
"I'm not the person you think I am," Oliver started, "and I need your help. Peter Declan is gonna be executed in 48 hours. I think he's innocent." He explained. "Declan's wife was gonna blow the whistle on Jason Brodeur. Brodeur had her murdered." He was now an arm's length from the woman.
"There are a thousand lawyers in Starling City." She reasoned. "Why me?"
Oliver gently reached out and pushed the gun down to point at the floor. Laurel didn't resist.
"We're both trying to help." Oliver said.
"What makes you sure I'm gonna help you?" she asked. Oliver walked behind her.
"Because I know you'd do anything to save the life of an innocent man." The Hood stated truthfully. Laurel thought for a moment, and then turned around- but the Hood was gone.
"He needs a mask." Tommy said suddenly. "The grease paint won't work forever, and sooner or later someone he knows is going to get a good look at his face.
"Good point." Slade agreed.
The scene changed to the next morning, where Laurel was visiting Declan in Iron Heights Penitentiary.
"A jury has charged you as guilty, Mr. Declan." She remarked calmly, staring at the man.
"The evidence was stacked against me, but I didn't kill my wife." He asserted, sliding a photo of is baby daughter to the lawyer. "I didn't take my daughter's mother from her."
Laurel looked at the picture for a few moments, then looked back up at Declan. "The murder weapon was a knife from your kitchen with your prints on it." She said. "It was found, along with Camille's blood, in the trunk of your car. Your neighbors said they heard an argument that night." She pressed on. Declan stood and began to pace.
"We had a knockdown fight over Jason Brodeur." He said finally, looking at Laurel. "Camille worked for him, and his company had been dumping toxic waste into The Glades. Now, Camille told me that she'd gone and told a supervisor about it." He took a breath. "I was afraid for my family's safety. And we argued very loudly, yes. Izzy started crying, so Camille went and stayed in her room." He dropped back into his seat wearily. "In the morning, I went to apologize, and that's when I found her. So I just grabbed Izzy, and I ran outside, and I called 911." Laurel leaned forward. "I'm innocent, Ms. Lance." He reasserted, and Laurel believed him.
The scene changed to Queen Consolidated, where Moira was walking into Walter's office.
"Well, it looks like someone forgot a lunch date with his wife." She said lightly. Walter looked up at her, his eye glasses perched on the end of his nose.
"What do you mean?" he asked, confused "Lunch isn't for another-" he looked at his watch and blanched slightly. He pulled off his glasses. "I'm so sorry."
"It's all right." Moira laughed lightly. "The restaurant is holding our table." She watched as Walter hurriedly straightened up his desk to leave. "Is there something wrong?"
"Compliance department has tagged something, $2.6 million withdrawal from one of our Vancouver subsidiaries." He stated.
A flicker of panic flitted across Moira's face, but she schooled her features before Walter even had a chance to notice. With forced casualness she asked "What-you mean- are you saying that someone embezzled $2.6 million from the company?"
Thea looked at her mother suspiciously. "Are you embezzling $2.6 million from the company?" she asked. Moira said nothing in reply.
"Well, it's probably a bookkeeping error, but compliance is understandably worried about an IRS audit." Walter hurriedly grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair. Mistaking his wife's worry, he smiled. "But don't worry. I'm sure it's nothing." He assured her, holding out his arm. "Come on. We're gonna be late. I mean, later!" Moira smiled and took his arm, walking with him out of the office.
The scene changed to the SCPD, where Laurel was perched on Quentin's desk, staring at his board. Front and center was the sketch of The Hood.
"Well, I wasn't the lead on this," Quentin said, coming back into the squad room carrying the Declan case file, "but from what I recall, we had fingerprints. We had blood. We got motive, everything." He told his daughter, sitting next to her on the desk's edge.
"Brodeur seems like the type of guy with resources needed to frame someone." Laurel noted. Quentin looked at his daughter.
"Laurel, in 24 hours, Peter Declan is lying down with a needle in his arm, and he's not getting up." He stated. "If I thought for a second we didn't have the right guy, do you think there's anything else I'd be doing right now except trying to get at what really happened?"
Laurel took the file and looked through it. "Declan said his wife went to her supervisor with allegations that Brodeur was dumping toxic waste." Laurel put in.
"Yeah, but that supervisor, he said that never happened." He noted. Quentin took back the file and flipped it. "Let me see. What was his name?" he flipped a couple of pages, then pointed. "Here you go. Istook, Matt Istook. He said he didn't even see Camille that day." He looked back at Laurel. "Happy now?"
Laurel clapped him on the leg. "Yes." She said, getting up.
"No you're not." Quentin said, eyeing his daughter proudly.
"No, I'm not." She agreed.
As she started to leave, Quentin called after her. "You know, I thought it'd be a cold day in hell before you started defending criminals." He said. Laurel turned to him and gave him a tight, lawyer smile.
"I'm not so sure Declan's a criminal." She replied. "Like you said, he's on a clock. Can't leave any stone unturned." With that, she left. Quentin sighed.
"Oh, yeah." He muttered, getting back to work.
The scene changed to Big Belly Burger, where Carly was delivering food to Digg. He was seated in a booth, his left arm in a sling.
"So when are you gonna tell me?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Digg hummed, not paying attention.
"About what happened to your arm?" She nodded at the sling. Digg looked up in surprise, then plastered on a confident smile
"Oh, it's my shoulder, and it's…its fine." He lied.
Carly scoffed. "I knew that Queen guy was trouble." She noted.
"Hey, I never said this happened protecting Queen." Diggle replied.
"Oh, yeah?" she asked, looking up at the entrance. "Then what's he doing here?"
Diggle looked around in surprise to see Oliver walking in, followed closely by Rob.
"Area is secure, sir." Rob said.
"Wow, what a tremendous tool." Thea said.
"He's just… dedicated to his job." Diggle defended lamely. The look Thea gave him told him she didn't buy that any more than he did.
"Thank you very much, Rob." Oliver replied dryly. He walked towards Diggle's booth. "Hello, Diggle's sister-in-law Carly." He said jovially, extending his hand. "I'm Oliver Queen."
Carly took it and gave him a curt shake. "I know who you are." She replied, unsmiling.
"No, you really don't." Digg put in. Oliver sat down and Carly walked off.
"Hello." He started. "I couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of police cars when I got home. I knew you wouldn't drop a dime on me. So have you considered my offer?"
"They're fresh-baked, you know." Felicity joked. Tommy giggled.
Thea looked at Tommy in astonishment. "Did you just giggle?"
Tommy shrugged. "Maybe."
"Offer? Digg scoffed. "That's one hell of a way to put it."
"It is an offer. It's a chance to do the kind of good that compelled you to join the military." He tried.
"Please." Digg shot back. "You were born with a platinum spoon in your mouth, Queen. What, you spent 5 years on an island with no room service, and suddenly you found religion?" he scoffed again, shaking his head.
Oliver pulled out the small notebook and placed it on the table. "This was my father's." he said, as Diggle gave the book a cursory look. "I found it when I buried him."
Digg looked up. "I thought you said your father died when the boat went down."
"We both made it to a life raft, but there wasn't enough food and water for both of us, so he shot himself in the head." He explained to a shocked Diggle. "And as much as he was doing it to give me a chance to survive, I believe that he was also atoning for his sins. I need to right the wrongs done by my family," he pleaded quietly, "and I'm offering you the chance to right the wrongs done to yours."
Digg leaned forward. "Oliver, what are you talking about?"
"The police never caught your brother's shooter." Oliver started, but Digg cut him off angrily.
"Hey, you leave Andy out of this."
"The bullets were laced with curare." Oliver continued. "That's Floyd Lawton's M.O. He is the sniper that I stopped." He finished, looking Digg in the eye.
"Are you trying to tell me that you took down Andy's killer?" he asked, disbelievingly.
"I'm…I'm giving you the chance, a chance to help other people's families." Oliver replied. He looked at the body guard earnestly. "Do you remember when the people in this city helped each other? They can't do that anymore, because a group of people- people like my father- they see nothing wrong with raising themselves up by stepping on other people's throats." Digg sat back, considering his words. "It does need to stop, and if it's not gonna be the courts and it's not gonna be the cops, then it's gonna be me." He stood, taking the notebook. He looked at Diggle. "And, I hope, you." He finished.
"I think you will accept his offer." Malcolm remarked thoughtfully.
"Why?" Dig asked. "Besides the obvious reason that I'm here now?"
Malcolm gave the man a calculated look. "Because, Mr. Diggle. You agree with him on a base level. And, you probably believe that you can be something that the Oliver of that time is clearly lacking- a conscience."
Diggle's eyebrows rose that that. Moira looked over at Malcolm, offended.
"How can you say that?" she demanded. "He's trying to clean up the mess that you- that we've," she corrected, "made. Even now he's trying to get an innocent man out of prison! And you say that he doesn't have a conscience?!"
"What he has, Moira, is a mission." Malcolm stated calmly. "He believes he needs to atone for his father's sins, and he's willing to do that- by any means necessary." He leaned forward. "He's cleaning up our mess using deadly force- a tactic I happen to agree with, but even I know there were times where he could have held back just a little and still achieved his objectives. You say he's trying to get an innocent man out of prison?" Malcolm shook his head. "No. Peter Declan just happened to be framed by a man whose name was on the list, nothing more. If Brodeur wasn't named on the list, than Oliver would have watched as Declan was executed as impassively as the rest of us."
Malcolm sat back. "I recognize Oliver for what he is because, once upon a time, I believed I could save our city much like he's doing. But he's beginning to realize something- he can't do it alone. And so he'll draw more people into his orbit. And those people will make him question himself and second-guess his methods. They will be his conscience as he slowly regains his own. And Mr. Diggle is starting to realize it." He looked up to the bodyguard, who nodded grudgingly in reply.
They all took a moment to consider Malcolm's words, the Felicity un-paused the memory file.
Rob walked over to Oliver, who stopped him with a raised hand. "I'm gonna go to the washroom, Rob." He said, then turned and headed to the restrooms. Rob took up position next to Diggle, who was mulling over his words. After a few moments, Digg looked up at the hapless bodyguard.
"Oh, that boy's long gone, man." He said. Rob looked up in consternation.
Despite the serious conversation of moments before, the whole room laughed at that.
The scene changed to later that night at Queen Manor, where Walter was busy working on his laptop.
"You still following the money trail?" Moira asked, coming into the room
"Mm-hmm." Walter said absently.
"Don't we have accountants for that sort of thing?"
"They're being singularly ineffective in this instance." Walter noted sourly.
"Probably because Mom is making them be ineffective." Thea noted sourly.
"Well, then it's fortunate that I've solved the mystery." Moira said with a guilty smile. "I think I'm the culprit." Walter looked up in confusion. Moira perched herself on the edge of the opposite couch and continued. "$2.6 million is a rather specific figure. That's the exact amount the company invested in a friend's start-up venture 3 years ago." Walter chuckled, and Moira smiled. "I will call accounting. They'll clean it all up." She announced. "Then there's nothing to worry about."
"Ok." Walter said, smiling back at his wife. Moira turned and left the room, and Walter sat back into the couch, his smile fading to a look of concern.
Moira sighed. "Oh, Walter…"
Malcolm's eyes narrowed. He had an idea where that money had gone.
The scene changed to CNRI. Joanna walked up to Laurel, who had her nose buried in a file. "You really are putting a lot of hours into this Declan thing." She noted. "You actually think he's innocent."
"Someone does." Laurel replied absently.
"So you said, but you didn't say who." Laurel looked around, then came up close to Joanna.
"The guardian angel." She whispered. Joanna's face lit up in comprehension.
"The guy in the hood?" she exclaimed quietly. "Look, you're- you're kidding…"
"He tracked me down and asked me to look into the Declan case." Laurel confided.
"But you've met him?" Joanna interrupted.
"But he goes against everything that I was ever taught to believe in." Laurel said. "He breaks the law and God knows what else."
"Breaks the law, breaks my heart… and the list goes on." Laurel quipped.
"How are you not afraid that he is gonna do God knows what to you?" her friend demanded. Laurel shook her head.
"He won't." she said confidently. "I don't know. I can feel it."
"Well, you've certainly felt him before." Thea said dryly, causing Laurel to blush and Quentin to groan.
"You know, when I told you to meet someone, this is far, far away from what I meant." Joanna remarked. Laurel just shrugged her shoulders.
The scene changed to a rooftop later that night, where Laurel stood across from The Hood.
"I got your message." She called across the room. "Is there a reason we can't do this face to face?"
"Because he's too lazy to wear a mask?" Felicity said.
"At least he's using a voice changer." Tommy noted.
"You've met with Peter Declan." He ignored her question.
"You were right." She said, walking closer to him. He stubbornly kept his face out of direct view. "He might be innocent. Declan said his wife blew the whistle on Brodeur the day she was murdered."
Oliver paced past Laurel, keeping his face as concealed as possible. "Then we need to get whoever she told about Brodeur to testify." He determined.
"He already has." Laurel replied. "Matt Istook, Camille's supervisor. Only, he says that she didn't say a word to him."
"He could be lying." Oliver said.
"Well, if he is, then he's very convincing. He had the jury and police believing him."
"He hasn't been questioned by me." Oliver said harshly.
"I didn't become a lawyer to break the law or hurt anybody." Laurel argued.
"I do what's necessary, what people like Peter Declan need." Oliver stated plainly.
"If what you're doing isn't wrong, then why are you hiding your face with a hood?" Laurel countered.
"To protect the ones I care about." The Hood replied softly.
"That sounds lonely."
"It can be." He agreed, his tone hardening "But not today." With that, he shot an arrow at a neighboring building and jumped off the roof, swinging away on the line that had been attached as Laurel looked on in astonishment.
Tommy looked at Laurel, who was seemingly enraptured by the screen, and couldn't help feeling a swell of jealousy rise in his chest.
The scene shifted to later that night at Queen Consolidated. The elevator opened on the empty executive floor, and Felicity stalked off and headed towards Walter's office. Without knocking, she barged in and confronted the man, who was sitting behind his desk.
"I've got one question. Why am I being fired?" she demanded.
"Ms. Smoak, isn't it?" he clarified.
"Yes." She responded, and then pressed on. "And I am without a doubt the single most valuable member of your technical division. That's including my so-called 'supervisor'. Letting me go would be a major error for this company."
Felicity's dropped her head in embarrassment.
"Direct, aren't you?" Thea asked with a smile.
"I agree, which is why you're not being fired." Walter replied calmly, bringing Felicity up short. The righteous indignation died.
"Uh, I assumed when you brought me up here, it was because-" she drew her thumb across her throat, miming her throat being slit.
"You needn't have worried about that. Walter doesn't fire people personally." Moira said, amused.
"Well, that's good to know." Felicity replied.
"It's because I wanted you to look into something for me." Walter said, handing Felicity a folder. She took it at once. "A variance of $2.6 million on a failed investment from 3 years ago. It was authorized by my wife. I was hoping you could find out some of the details of the transaction for me."
"Find out…" Felicity looked up from the folder at Walter.
"Dig up discreetly." He said, giving her a look.
Moira sighed in frustration.
Felicity smiled. "I'm your girl." She said, turning to leave. She paused on the way out and turned back to Walter. "I mean, I'm not your girl. I wasn't making a pass at you." She clarified. Walter gave her a thin smile. "Thank you for not firing me." She said as she walked out the door. Walter leaned back in his chair, a look on his face that screamed 'What an odd girl'.
"You're different than other people." Tommy noted to Felicity, who just blushed in reply.
The scene changed to a parking lot, as Matt Istook turned off the alarm for his Porsche 911. He put his bag in the passenger seat and opened the door to get in, when he felt a sudden sting at the back of his neck. He reached back, and pulled free a dart. He looked at it, uncomprehending. "What the…" he started, before the tranquilizer took effect and he passed out.
When he awoke, he was laying on a set of railroad tracks. Blearily he started to sit up, reaching up to rub his face. His arm jerked to a stop and he stared, seeing the handcuff that chained him to the rail.
"Matt Istook."
He looked up in alarm to see The Hood standing there, bow in hand, his face hidden in the shadow of his hood.
"You're him, that hood guy." He observed. "You're the guy that's been terrorizing the city."
"Peter Declan, your lies helped put him on death row." He snarled. A train whistle sounded in the near distance. "Now, either it's time to tell me the truth, or it's time for the 10:15 to Blüdhaven."
"O-ok. Ok, I—" he stuttered, seeing the train closing in on them far behind the Hood. "Brodeur paid me to…to say that Camille never spoke to me, but I didn't have anything to do with her death." The train grew closer. "Oh, God, please. I'll do anything." He pleaded. "Y-you could have the file!"
"What file?" The Hood demanded.
"Camille gave me a file of evidence against Jason Brodeur." The train grew larger behind the Hood.
"Where is it?!" The hood demanded.
"Let me go, and I'll tell you!" Istook pleaded. The Hood ignored his pleas and walked past him, leaving him to the approaching train. "Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Don't go! It's in my desk! The file, it's in my desk at the office! You can have it!" The train was mere feet in front of him. "Get me out of here!" Suddenly an arrow broke the cuff, and Istook threw himself to the side off the tracks, just as the train whizzed by.
Thea shuddered at the casual cruelty Oliver displayed, and thought more about what Malcolm had said. 'Maybe I could be his conscience.' She thought.
Oliver watched the sobbing man through the passing train cars, and remembered when he once begged.
The scene flashed back to Lian Yu. In the cave, Yao Fei was cooking a rat on a stick. Oliver, near delirious with hunger, took notice.
"What is that?" he asked wearily, crawling over to the man who sat stoically in front of the fire. "I'm so hungry. It smells really good." He reached a hand out towards the cooking rat-
And Yao Fei's hand suddenly lashed out, grabbing and twisting Oliver's hand away. With a shove he sent the boy crashing to the floor of the cave.
"Aah!" Oliver exclaimed, more in surprise than in pain. "Hey, fine. Don't share."
Yao Fei grunted. He looked at the boy, then pointed to the bird. He mimed ringing the bird's neck. "Shengcún." He repeated.
Oliver looked at the bird, then back at Yao Fei. "I'm not gonna kill the bird." He said, indignant.
"You will if you want to eat." Slade growled.
The Asian man just stared back, and popped a bit of cooked rat into his mouth. "Shengcún." He said once more.
Back in the present, Laurel was working late at CNRI. Alone in the office, she was startled when the lights suddenly went out. She glanced around nervously, and then jumped slightly when a file folder landed on her desk. Tentatively, she picked it up and gave it a cursory look.
"Compliments of Matt Istook." The Hood said from across the room.
"How does he do that?" Quentin asked once again.
"What's in here?" she asked.
"Leverage on Jason Brodeur, enough to help save Peter Declan's life."
Laurel looked through the file. "As an attorney, I never would have gotten a file like this." She looked up at The Hood. "I always thought the law was sacred, I-it fixed everything." She explained.
"And now, Laurel?" he asked. "Now what do you think?"
"I think there are too many people in this city who only care about themselves… people who are selfish. I think they need someone who cares about the lives of other people someone like you." She looked back down at the file to study it some more. Suddenly the lights came back on, and she looked up to see The Hood had vanished.
The scene shifted back to Queen Manor, where Oliver came in. He was smiling, observing the pictures on the small table by the door.
"Oh, my God." A familiar voice said. He looked up to see Thea standing there. "What is wrong with your face?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" Oliver replied, worried that some of the grease paint was still over his eyes. Her next words dispelled his fears and caused a broad grin to break out on his face
"There's something really weird on it, like this thing with your mouth." She said, grinning herself. "It…it looks like it's in the shape of a smile." She teased.
Tommy snorted in amusement.
"That's cute." He said.
"So why are you grinning?" Thea asked.
"I took your advice with Laurel to be myself." He said simply. "And it's helping."
"It'd help even more if she knew it was you." Laurel noted grumpily, much to Tommy's dismay.
Thea grinned triumphantly. "Got mad relationship skills, bro." she said. "Let me know if you need trendy places to propose."
"I think you're getting a little bit ahead of yourself." He said. She looked at him slyly, and he held up his thumb and forefinger, pinching them together. "Little bit."
The front door burst opened, and Rob strolled in wearily, his jacket over his arm and a defeated expression on his face. "Rob." Oliver smiled. "You gotta keep up." He said, heading for his room, leaving the broken man behind.
"Does anybody else feel the tinniest bit sorry for Rob?" Thea asked. Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.
The scene shifted to the next day at CNRI. Quentin Lance hurriedly walked in, heading straight for Laurel, who was busily typing away. "Hey, you look busy." He stated. "Is that the Declan case? You know, it was a funny development on that. Matt Istook." He noted, "He, uh, filed a police report. He said The Hood harassed him last night." He looked at Laurel. "And that's funny, because I gave my daughter Istook's name."
"Busted." Tommy said, grinning at Laurel who rolled her eyes in reply.
"Dad-" she started, but Quentin cut her off. "He's a vigilante." He snarled. "He's a damn criminal, and you working with him, that makes you an accessory!"
"I am trying to save an innocent man's life." Laurel argued.
"No. You're breaking the law."
"Why not both?" Thea asked.
Tommy looked at the girl. "You're on a roll tonight, Speedy!" he teased.
Thea shrugged. "It's been a while since I've been up this long without chemical intervention." She admitted. At the looks she received, Thea scoffed. "Nothing you didn't already find out, so stop looking all shocked and angry."
"Well, I wouldn't have to if the police would have done their job right in the first place." She shot back. Quentin looked stricken.
"Ouch." Tommy said.
"I asked you how you got this case." He started. "You lied to me straight to my face, eh? I thought you and I didn't do that." He gave her one last look. "Guess I was wrong." he finished, turning and walking out of the building.
The scene shifted to the courthouse, where Laurel was arguing her case before Judge Moss.
"The mere existence of the file proves that Mr. Istook perjured himself for Jason Brodeur's benefit." She was arguing.
"That's slander." A voice cut her off. She turned to see Brodeur, with his lawyer and two bodyguards, walk in the room. "Jared Swanstrom, Your Honor." The man who spoke said. "I represent Jason Brodeur and Brodeur Chemical."
"The interest of justice requires you to stay the defendant's execution pending exploration of the newly discovered evidence." Laurel continued, ignoring the new people in the room.
Judge Moss looked at Laurel evenly. "Ours isn't a court of justice, Ms. Lance." She stated. "It's a court of law, and under the law, I don't think your evidence is sufficient to warrant a stay of execution. Your motion for habeas corpus is denied." She finished, returning to her paperwork. Laurel turned and walked out. Before she left, though, she stopped in front of Brodeur.
"If I'm not mistaken, Brodeur was a leading contributor to Judge Moss' re-election campaign." Malcolm said darkly.
"This isn't over." She said defiantly. "I've got the loose end now, and no matter what happens, I am going to pull on it until your whole world unravels." She threatened, walking out and leaving a very worried Brodeur behind.
The scene changed to Brodeur's office later that day, where the businessman was worriedly ranting to his bodyguard. "Declan's lawyer's pulling me into this!" he exclaimed. "I'm gonna go to prison, if not for murder, then this- this dumping thing."
"That won't happen." The bodyguard assured him. "There are steps we can take."
"You saw her." He argued. "She's going after me."
The bodyguard sighed. "She's gonna want to meet with her client after what happened in court today. We have friends up in Iron Heights. Prison can be a dangerous place." He remarked calmly.
Quentin sighed helplessly and looked at his daughter. "Why do you keep putting yourself in danger like this!" he exclaimed.
Laurel rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Well, I would ask for police protection if I wasn't sure my father would probably throw me in jail first!"
They both looked away from one another, annoyed.
The scene changed to later that night, where Laurel was meeting with the Hood on the roof of CNRI.
"We're not done yet." The Hood stated.
"I'm an attorney." Laurel countered with a sigh. "Trust me. We're done."
"What do you need to free Peter Declan?" he asked.
"At this point, nothing short of a signed confession from Brodeur." The Hood turned to leave. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"To get a confession." He replied.
The scene changed to Queen Consolidated, where Felicity was filling Walter in on what she found.
"The company Mrs. Queen- or Steele." She paused, a stray thought catching her attention, "Mrs. Queen-Steele. Does she hyphenate? She seems like a woman who would hyphenate." Walter cleared his throat and sat back at his desk, looking at her expectantly. "Right. The company she invested in doesn't exist."
"I don't understand." Walter said, confused.
"There was no investment." Felicity explained. "The money was used to set up an offshore LLC called Tempest."
"I don't recall that name being under the Queen Consolidated banner." He remarked.
"'Cause it's not." She replied. "There's nothing registered with the Secretary of State, no federal tax records, no patent applications filed. But in 2009, Tempest purchased a warehouse in Starling City." She handed the folder to Walter, who smiled in gratitude. Felicity smiled and left as Walter looked over the file.
Moira sighed. "You are very good, Ms. Smoake." She told the girl, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Thanks?" she replied uncertainly. "I would also like to point out that my boss asked me to do something, which I did. So there really is no reason to fire me…."
Moira gave her a tired smile. "I'm not going to fire you, so don't worry."
"Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?" Malcolm said lightly.
Moira shot him a look. "Why do you think I've kept you so close all these years?" she asked bitingly.
The scene changed to Big Belly Burger, where Diggle was once again eating. Carly came up to him.
"Enough moping." She stated. Diggle smiled at her as she took a seat across from him. "You quit. It's done. My advice would be to move on."
"Well, if it were only that easy." Dig said, rubbing his face.
"Except it is." Carly said. "Personal security is dangerous. Your nephew already lost his father. He can't lose his uncle, too."
Dig thought for a long moment. "Does it ever bother you," he began, "that they never caught the guy who killed Andy?" He paused, gathering his thoughts. "You know, when I was in Afghanistan, I had a job, and I did it. And when I could, I would help out the people there so that, in some small way, when I left, I could believe I left it a better place." He sighed. "But ever since I've been home, all I do is protect punks and spoiled one percenters."
Carly smiled. "Yeah."
"I miss feeling like I'm making a difference in the world." He announced, seeming to just come to the realization.
"Then get out of personal security and go do something you believe in." Carly said.
"Yeah, what if it's wrong?" he countered.
"John, if you believe in something, how can it be wrong?" she asked simply.
"Welcome to the party, pal." Tommy joked.
The scene changed to Brodeur's office, where the businessman was being held at arrow-point by The Hood.
"What do you want?" he asked fearfully.
"You're gonna confess that you arranged to have Peter Declan's wife murdered." The Hood growled.
"What, so I can take his place in prison?"
"So you can avoid the death penalty."
"Except if I'm dead, well, then, you've got no one to pin Camille's murder on." Brodeur realized, confidence slowly returning. "You need me to exonerate Peter Declan. Maybe you could try to force me to sign a confession or something-" his boasting cut off with a scream as The Hood shot an arrow through his hand.
"That might be difficult." The Hood remarked.
"God help me, I'm starting to like the guy." Quentin muttered.
Bordure was saved by the bell, literally, as his phone began to ring. The Hood walked over and pulled the phone out of his jacket. "Just answer it." He connected the call.
"What?" Brodeur said, pain in his voice.
"It's Ankov." His bodyguard said over the phone. "It's going down, one hour." The Hood snarled and hung up the phone.
"What's going down in an hour?" he demanded. "What?!"
"Let's just say Peter Declan's execution, it's getting moved up." Brodeur replied. Oliver hit him with the bow, knocking him out.
The scene changed to Iron Heights, where Laurel was talking with Declan.
"We still have a shot." Laurel was telling him. "Do you remember the friend that I mentioned, the one who believes in you? He is working on something."
Outside, The Hood put a guard in a sleeper hold, knocking him out. He then quickly stripped the guard and started to put on the uniform.
"What, is he gonna put the hood on over the uniform?" Thea wondered.
"I told you, Jason Brodeur is powerful." Declan told Laurel.
At a back door, a guard opened it to reveal Ankov, Brodeur's bodyguard. Ankov handed the guard an envelope and took a bundle of clothes from him. "Time to unlock the cages." He said.
"I've been here before." Declan continued. "These lawyers holding out these little nuggets of hope."
And then the lights went out, alarms started blaring, and the shouting began as Declan and Laurel looked on helplessly. The guard in the room was listening to his radio.
'Secure all corners in cell block "C".' he looked to Laurel. "The warden's setting up a secure perimeter in "C" block." He said. "Stay here, Ms. Lance." He ordered, leaving the room.
Laurel scoffed. "Like hell!"
"Well, THAT cop was probably paid off." Felicity noted. Quentin nodded in agreement, making not of his name to investigate when they got back.
"One good thing about this, I'll be cleaning house at Iron Heights." Quentin said.
"Wait!" Laurel yelled. She looked out the door and saw prisoners running through the halls, jumping guards. Making a decision, she gestured to Declan and the two fled the visitors' room. They ran down a hall and landed in a juncture filled with prisoners. She watches as the beat a guard unconscious. One of the goons looked up.
"There's Lance." He said, picking up the guards gun. Before he could point it at her, an arrow hit him in the shoulder, sending him to the ground. Laurel turned to see a disguised Hood, wearing a guards uniform with a ski mask, holding his bow.
"Let's go."
He led them back into the hall, stopping briefly only to beat back some of the prisoners to give them room. "Go!" he called out, leading them down the hall. At the far end he saw cops with riot shields moving in formation towards them. He steered them to an open doorway. "In here."
The three entered the room, The Hood leading the way. Suddenly The Hood was sucker punched by Ankov, who sent him sprawling to the ground, dazed. Next the muscle grabbed Laurel, throwing her into a chain link fence that portioned the room, and then flung her back to the floor. She hit hard, dazed, and Ankov got on top of her, putting his hands around her throat.
As Laurel watched her own attempted murder in stunned horror, Quentin put an arm around her shoulders, though his hands were clenched hard enough to draw blood.
Oliver cleared his head and looked over. Seeing Laurel being choked, he saw red and launched himself at Ankov, tackling him off the lawyer. He started throwing elbows and forearms at the bodyguards face, not stopping, not letting up. Laurel shakily got to her feet and staggered over, placing a hand on his arm. "Stop!" she said hoarsely, Oliver shot up, backing away from her and slowly coming back to his senses. Before anything else could happen, though, the riot cops entered. Laurel immediately back to the wall.
"Laurel." He whispered brokenly as Declan and Ankov were secured. Then he faded into the background, mixing in among the other guards and making his way out of the prison.
The scene changed to later outside the entrance to Iron Heights. Laurel was seated on the hood of a police car as Quentin ran up to her.
"Laurel" he called out, breathless, pulling her into a hug, "Sweetie. What are you-" he started.
"I'm all right." Laurel cut him off.
"You sure?"
"I'm sorry about what I said to you." She said. Quentin sighed.
"Yeah, well, you were right." He told her. "Ankov just confessed to Camille Declan's murder. We got the wrong guy." He finished sadly. The he looked at his daughter. "Now, listen to me, Laurel. I'm right, too, about him. He's dangerous. He's outside the law."
"I know." She said, surprising him. "He's a killer." From the roof of the prison, Oliver watched Laurel and Quentin talk. He pulled off the ski mask as she continued. "He would have killed that man. I looked in his eyes—it was like he had no remorse."
Moira looked at Laurel coldly. "He also just saved your life." She said pointedly.
"Hey, back off." Quentin said. "She's obviously in shock.
"Yeah, Mom. Settle down." Thea added. She too had been shaken up by the brutality Oliver had shown, though she could contextualize it. 'If it had been me or Mom,' she thought, 'he wouldn't have stopped.'
Oliver closed his eye in pain, and once more the scene flashed back to the cave.
Oliver stared at the bird in the cage, and then looked back up at Yao Fei. "Hey, please." He pleaded. "I'm starving. I never killed anything before." The man continued to ignore him. Oliver looked back at the bird, and slowly he took it out of the cage. "I'm sorry." He whispered. He looked up at the ceiling of the cave as he put his hand around the bird's neck and twisted, snapping the spine and killing the bird. Yao Fei glanced at him, before he went back to work on making new traps.
Back in the present, Quentin put his jacket on Laurel. "Let's get you home, sweetie." He said, walking with her back to his car. "How'd he get into that prison, anyway, huh?" he asked suddenly, stopping and looking at Laurel. "A grown man in an outfit and a hood, that kind of stands out a little, doesn't it?"
"He actually wasn't wearing the outfit this time." Laurel said. "He was in a prison guard uniform and a ski mask." Quentin looked at her, and then looked away, thinking. "What?" she asked.
Quentin shook his head and smiled. "Nothing." He said. "I just had an idea." He opened the door to his cruiser. "Get in the car." He said. Laurel got in and Lance closed the door, still thinking.
Quentin's eyes narrowed. 'I wonder what I thought of…'
The scene shifted to an isolated warehouse. Walter walked up to the door. He tried it, but found it locked. He then looked at the electronic keypad. He thought for a few moments, then typed in TEMPEST. It buzzed, indicating wrong code. The screen cleared, and Walter nest tried Oliver. It buzzed again. He tried Thea, and it buzzed again. He thought for a moment, pausing only briefly as he typed ROBERT. The pad beeped and the door opened. He hesitantly walked inside. Opening the inside door, he was greeted by a pitch black expanse. He spied some light switches on the wall next to him and flipped them. As the lights came on, he found himself on a catwalk twenty feet above the floor of the warehouse- and laid out before him was the wreckage of the Queen's Gambit.
"Oh, Moira." Malcolm said. "You have been busy."
Thea's eyes were wide in shock. "'The Gambit'," she breathed. "Mom, what the fuck?"
"Language-"
"FUCK MY LANGUAGE!" Thea shouted. "Why…how…"
"After Malcolm visited me, I hired a crew to look for the boats' remains. I wanted to analyze them and see if I could prove that the boat was sabotaged, and I had hoped I'd find evidence that would directly link the ship's sinking with Malcolm. Unfortunately," she looked at the man in question, "I never did find anything that linked Malcolm with the sinking. But I did have proof that it was an explosive device that sank 'The Gambit'. So I held onto the boat as insurance."
"And now Walter is sniffing around." Malcolm noted. "I wonder how I'll take that."
An uneasy silence fell, and Felicity started the memory again.
The scene changed to the SCPD, where Lance, Hilton and the computer expert Kelton were looking at his screens as he pulled up footage.
"Ok, here's the security footage from the Exchange building shooting," Kelton said, "but I've already scrubbed through all of it."
"Yeah? Well, we're gonna do it again." Lance stated. "So, listen, when you went through the camera security tapes, you were looking for a guy in a green outfit and a green hood, right?" he asked.
"What do you want me to look for, a man in a wig and a tutu?" Kelton said sarcastically.
"That would be hilarious." Tommy said, easing the tension.
"I want you to look for anything that's out of the ordinary, ok?" the detective replied irritably. "Just look." The three cops watched for a few minutes before something caught Lance's eye. "Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa." He said, getting their attention. He pointed to one of the monitors. "Wait. Go back 10 seconds." He did so, and as the footage rewound, Lance saw an easily recognizable Oliver Queen pulling a duffle bag out of a trashcan, and extracting a hood from the bag.
"What is that?" Kelton asked. Quentin leaned forward.
"I'll be damned." He said. "Play that again."
"Kid get sloppy or creative, you think?" Slade asked Malcolm, who was smiling.
"Oh, I think he's much too intelligent to be that sloppy." He replied.
The scene changed to the next day, where Laurel was walking with Peter Declan through the park.
"Thank you, Laurel." Declan said sincerely.
"Don't thank me." She countered with a smile. "Thank Brodeur's bodyguard Ankov for flipping him." She looked over to a bench, where an elderly woman and a small child were waiting. "I think there's someone that wants to see you."
"Izzy." Declan breathed, looking at his baby girl. The girl, hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence ran to her father, who knelt down and took her in his arms, crying tears of joy.
Laurel smiled happily at the reunion.
The scene changed to the lair, where Oliver was watching a news broadcast of Brodeur being led away in handcuffs. 'At least 5 federal, state, and local agencies are seeking millions of dollars in fines and environmental cleanup costs from Brodeur Chemical. New facts have come to light that Brodeur Chemical employee Camille Declan had discovered Brodeur was illegally disposing waste and had collected a file of evidence against her employer before her murder in 2007. Peter Declan, who was convicted of killing his wife, has been released, and the case has been reopened."
He crossed Brodeur's name off the list, then looked sadly at Laurel's picture. He put it back in the book and closed it as he thought back to the island.
Flashback to the cave, where Oliver is now eating cooked pheasant. Yao Fei walked in and sat across from him.
"Shengcún." He said. Oliver nodded.
"Yeah." He said, a mouth full of pheasant. "Bird. I know."
"Shengcún not mean 'bird'." Oliver looked up in shock. "Shengcún mean 'survive'."
"You speak English." Oliver asked incredulously.
Thea, Tommy, Felicity and Laurel all chuckled.
"You want survive this place, bird not last thing you kill." He pulled Laurel's picture out from his shirt. "And forget her." He advised. "You look at that all day, you not survive this place."
The scene shifted to the present. Moira walked up to a limo and climbed inside. "You wanted to see me?" she asked, looking across to Malcolm Merlyn.
Tommy's eyes narrowed. Malcolm leaned forward, interested.
"You look nervous, Moira." He noted. She hummed noncommittally.
"Do I have a reason to be?" she asked.
"We all do." Malcolm pulled out the sketch of The Hood and handed it to her. She looked at it, uninterested.
"A modern-day Robin hood." She decided. She looked at Malcolm. "What, are you worried that your net worth makes you a target?"
Malcolm tuned and leaned in close. "Jason Brodeur, Adam Hunt, Warren Patel." He listed off. "Tell me you see a connection, Moira."
The realization was instant. "He's not targeting the rich."
"No, he's not." He agreed. "He's targeting the list."
The scene shifted to Queen Manor. Oliver walked in to the sitting room, where Diggle was standing by the windows. He cleared his throat.
"You here for the bodyguard position?" he asked, "'Cause the new guy just quit."
"Knew it!" Tommy said.
"Poor Rob." Felicity added. "We barely knew ye."
Digg smiled. "No, I'm not." He said, turning to face Oliver. "I'm here about the other position." Oliver held out his hand, but Digg stayed where he was. "Just to be clear, I'm not signing on to be a sidekick." He said. Oliver put his hand down and Diggle started walking towards him. "But you're right. Fighting for this city needs to be done, and you're gonna do this with or without me."
"Yeah." Oliver agreed.
"But with me, there'll be fewer casualties, including you." He stopped in front of the man. Oliver looked at him with a wan smile.
"Diggle, I'm not looking for anybody to save me." He argued.
"Maybe not, but you need someone just the same." Digg said. "You are fighting a war, Queen, except you have no idea what war does to you, how it scrapes off little pieces of your soul." Digg held out his hand. "And you need someone to remind you of who you are, not this thing you're becoming." Oliver nodded and took his hand, shaking it.
Just then the front doors burst open and half a dozen cops, including Lance and Hilton, barged in past a very upset Walter.
"Oliver Queen." Lance yelled. Oliver walked out of the sitting room as the cops came in the foyer.
"What is this?" Walter demanded. "You can't just barge in here."
Lance stopped in front of the Brit and gave him a satisfied smile. "Yeah? Well, I got a badge and a gun that say different." He noted.
"Hey, what the hell's going on?!" Oliver asked, spotting Lance for the first time. "Detective Lance-"
"Oliver Queen," he cut him off, moving to cuff the man just as Moira came in, "you're under arrest on suspicion of obstruction of justice, aggravated assault," Moira looked at her husband in panic. "What is going on?" she asked. Thea, having heard the commotion, watched it all from the top of the stairs. "Walter, stop them!" she shouted. Lance continued through all the interruptions. "Trespassing, acting as a vigilante…"
"Are you out of your mind?!" Oliver shouted at the cop.
"And murder." He finished, He gave the younger man a victorious look. As he led him out of the house, he began to read him his rights. "You have the right to remain silent. Give up that right…."
Everyone stared at the screen dumbfounded as it faded to black. Finally Quentin hummed in surprise.
"Huh. I nailed the-" he cut himself off catching the murderous look Moira was giving him, "-brat." He finished lamely.
"Not for very long, I don't think." Malcolm said. At his look, Malcolm smiled. "Come now, Detective. After seeing what we've seen, do you truly take him for a fool? This is all a part of some plan. What the plan is, though…" he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders.
The door opened to reveal Mia standing there. "Well, that seems like a good place to stop for the night." She said happily.
Tommy groaned. "Seriously? Now, after Oliver gets arrested?"
"What, it's nothing you haven't seen before four times." Mia joked. "Besides, I like to keep my audience riveted. Now, I'll show you all to your rooms." Grudgingly, they all rose and followed Mia out of the room. They walked down the hall past several closed doors until they reached a row of open doors. "Since we are in the VIP wing, everybody gets their own room." Mia announced. "Breakfast will be at 0800 to accommodate late sleepers," he looked at Thea, who merely raised an eyebrow in reply. "For those who wish to take advantage, there is a gym just down the hall. It's general use, so everyone on the station uses it. If you do use it, remember to behave yourselves." She looked to Slade, then Malcolm. "All right, lecture over. Pick a room and grab some shut-eye. We got a long day tomorrow." Mia turned and left, and the groups rapidly split apart, each person picking a room to get some sleep.
TBC 12/1/2014
A/N: So, the past few episodes have been damn good. Just a reminder- while I may cherry pick some things to use in this story, the events of the current Season 3 did not happen in this universe. To everyone I didn't respond to, thank you for the reviews. They are food for my writer's soul.
Also, I have finished transcribing Season 1, and am now working on Season 2. I anticipate it will take me a month or so, but just so you know that means I have 22 chapters in the can. Once I get them transcribed and at least half of the chapters finished, I may go to a weekly posting schedule. We'll see.